


First Dance

by TsunadesApprentice



Category: Throne of Glass Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M, First Dance, Fluff, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-15
Packaged: 2020-10-19 00:56:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20648579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TsunadesApprentice/pseuds/TsunadesApprentice
Summary: A short, fluffy drabble that wouldn't leave me alone after my last reread





	First Dance

Aelin Ashryver Whitethorn Galathynius didn't tremble as she took her mate's arm, didn't let the excitement show whatsoever as she strode onto the dance floor, every movement smooth and elegant. Every inch the queen she had been crowned as just hours before. 

Even if her heart was racing within her chest, her stomach full of butterflies and her blood seeming to tingle as it pulsed through her. 

Aelin had known this moment was coming, had gone so far as to warn her mate once the date of her coronation had been set. And yet… 

And yet she'd never really expected to be here. 

She'd been supposed to die to forge the lock. Had seen it as deserved for having failed her country and people for so long. Had accepted that her life was the cost for the survival of the continent, world, _worlds_ perhaps, in the face of Erawan. 

But as Rowan lead her to the centre of the hall, surrounded by her people, allies and friends - _their_ people, allies and friends - joy washed over her as it had so many times now, that she was still here. She was still here. With him. 

They flowed into the starting pose of the dance, the movement fluid like the soft flicker of flame or the gentle sweep of a spring breeze. Two beings totally in sync with one another. 

She didn't know where or when he'd learned to dance, didn't care as the first notes of the music drifted across the hall and their eyes met as he lead her into the first steps of a waltz. 

Rowan's moves were strong and sure as they moved. It didn't surprise her, not really. Not when all of his movements were strong and sure: the movements of a honed warrior. Yet Aelin marvelled in each movement as this previously unknown facet of him was revealed to her with each step. 

Whatever else had happened, he'd taken her comment about this dance to heart, for as they moved he didn't miss a single step, didn't fail to lead her into the perfect move for the music now filling the hall, her heart. 

The look in his eyes spoke of joy and love and devotion, and she knew without asking that he knew what this meant to her. 

They were dancing, each step perfect, the tempo increasing as the music swelled, and they flowed with it. 

The crowd around them faded from Aelin's mind as they spun around the dance floor, faster and faster. Through the bond she could feel her mate's happiness, knew he could feel hers, and with it her magic came alive, embers trailing in her wake. 

She let them fly, as she let Rowan lead the dance, too thrilled at this unexpected surprise from her mate to stem the flow of those sun bright embers that glowed with all the fierce joy and love in her heart. 

For her mate. For her people. 

Aelin watched in delight as her mate's eyes sparked as he beheld the trail of embers in their wake, and her heart ached at the love she felt for him, that she felt from him. 

Full to bursting, she didn't fight her grin, nor the bubble of magic as it filled her and she began to glow. 

Let them see. 

Let them see their queen so full of life and love and happiness. 

She had promised to rebuild Terrasen as a beacon of hope for all those who were lost, and with Rowan - her husband, her mate - at her side, she'd do just that. And until Terrasen was restored, it's white walls gleaming, she'd be that beacon. She'd be a light in the darkness, guiding all the lost and broken people of these lands home. 

And as the final quivering note of the waltz rang out, they came to a perfect stop, chests heaving not with exertion but emotion. 

As the final whisper of sound disappeared from the air, she leaned up to kiss her mate. 

They had done it. 

They'd survived. 

Now they'd live. 


End file.
